The wind carried the scent of earth and pine through the village that afternoon. The sky, though clouded, held no promise of rain—just a gray stillness that made everything feel like it was waiting. Waiting for something to shift.
Calla walked the gravel path that curved between the pack's houses, a small satchel of herbs clutched in her hand. She'd just come from helping the healer, Madame Elra, prepare poultices for the younger wolves who'd returned injured from morning training. The work had distracted her, but only for a while.
The feeling of being watched had returned.
It wasn't just Darien now. It was something deeper. Older.
Each day, her senses seemed to sharpen. Smells were stronger. Sounds, clearer. And there was a weight in her chest—like a locked door trembling under pressure.
---
"The seal weakens."
What seal? Calla asked in her mind.
"The one they placed to keep you… tame."
She stopped walking.
Tame?
"They feared what you would become. So they buried it."
Calla's fingers tightened around the satchel strap.
Why me? I'm just an omega.
Her wolf didn't answer right away.
Then softly:
"No, you're not."
---
By late afternoon, she was back at the garden shed behind the small supply house, harvesting dried lavender and sage for future teas. Her fingers moved slowly, methodically, trying to ignore the noise in her mind.
She heard footsteps behind her and didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Darien.
He had a way of entering quietly but making the air shift when he did.
"What are you doing out here alone?" he asked.
She didn't look up. "Gathering herbs. Madame Elra asked."
"I thought she had apprentices for that."
"She does. But I volunteered."
Darien came closer, crouching beside her. "You don't like people much, do you?"
Calla looked at him, finally. "That obvious?"
He gave a quiet laugh, not unkind. "You're quiet. Watchful. Careful with your words."
"That's not a bad thing."
"No," he agreed, "it's not."
They worked in silence for a while, pulling stalks and separating them gently. Darien's hands were steady, strong. He didn't seem to mind the quiet like others did.
Calla was almost comfortable… until he said:
"You know, I asked Elra about your ring."
Her head snapped toward him.
He met her eyes calmly. "She said you've had it since you were twelve. Like all omegas."
Calla looked away. "Then you already know what it does."
"I know what they say it does."
She didn't answer.
Darien lowered his voice. "But I've seen how it glows when you're upset. That's not normal."
Calla stood abruptly. "I should go."
"Calla—"
"I'm not some mystery to solve, Alpha," she said tightly, turning to leave.
Darien's voice followed her. "No, you're not. But don't lie to yourself. Something inside you is stirring. And you're scared of it."
She paused.
Because he was right.
She was.
---
That evening, everything changed.
Calla was walking back to her cottage when the world blurred. Her head spun, vision dimmed, and a pain like a knife pierced through her chest.
She stumbled to her knees, breathing hard.
Her ring was glowing—bright, blinding silver.
Her fingertips burned.
Voices rang in her ears. Whispering. Chanting. Ancient words she couldn't understand.
Then she heard it.
A howl.
Not from outside.
From inside her mind.
---
"They can't hold me back anymore."
What's happening?!
"You're waking up."
---
The light vanished suddenly.
Calla collapsed to the ground, breathing hard, sweat soaking her collar.
Mika came running seconds later. "Calla! What happened?!"
Calla looked up, dazed. "I don't know… I… something's wrong with me."
Mika crouched beside her, shaking. "Your eyes were glowing. Not yellow. Silver."
Calla's heart stopped.
Silver.
No wolf had silver eyes unless…
Unless they weren't normal.
Unless they were something else.
---
Back at his mansion, Darien stood by the window of his upstairs study, staring out over the village.
He'd felt it.
A pull. A surge. A sudden jolt in the bond network that tied his pack together.
But there was no bond tug. No mate call.
Just…
Something.
Something that felt like lightning buried in the dirt.
And for a moment, his inner wolf had stirred. Uneasy. Alert.
"She is not what she seems," it had growled.
Darien didn't answer.
He already knew that.